Montana, Montana... Montana. I'm coming back.

That's why the call it "Big Sky" country.

Future Residence?

Another crappy fishing spot, courtesy of the American West.

Montana Clothes Line.

Missoula

Some place better.

Happiness is... fly-fishing in Montana.

Interesting People

Noah:

Noah was a guy I met in Yellowstone. He was fly-fishing in the rain and didn't really know what he was doing, so I traded some tips with him. I told him how to roll-cast, so he could fish under a bridge, out of the weather, and he told me about where some semi-secret hot springs were in Yellowstone, so I could stop smelling like a road-trip. He lives out of his van; an old Volkswagen bus. He said he was from Southern California and that he kind of "bounced around" and that he was working for the Sierra Club on an anti-coal mining operation near Yellowstone. He said he like having the extra alone time to write music and read. Interesting guy. Very chill. Very SoCal.



Dick:

Dick is about 50. He called himself "Old Bones" on account of his need for serious padding when camping in a tent. We were both at the same campground outside of Yellowstone. He proudly showed me how he had individual plastic containers for each of the camping necessities. One bin for food, one for tent and blankets, etc. I think he was a drifter operating under the guise of an outdoorsman/camper. Decent guy, but a little nervous. (side note: there was a couple from England honey mooning there, they wanted to see the great American west, especially Custer Battlefield)



Dylan:

I encountered Dylan at a fishing spot just Northwest of Yellowstone. He was wrestling with his dad and drinking a beer at just before 8 a.m. He asked me what I was fishing with and it was a lewer I had acquired years ago from a patient; it was handmade out of glass and looked like a fish egg so I thought it might have a chance. It did. It got several bites, but it was too big for them to take, so it only went upriver for a a few feet before they spit it out.
It all started with him giving me a hard time about driving a mid-size car (Montana is all SUVs) for no reason at all. I made some comments about him passing judgement and being self-righteous and religion or something along those lines. We got along really well. He offered me a beer and I said no so we talked about fishing instead. It turns out he works for an organization that rebuilds rivers in order to have the ecosystem go back to semi-normal, a gig he landed after finishing school out east. This guy totally hooked me up. He told me the whole scoop on how to fish different rivers and even gave me several different flies and taught me how to tie a line for Montana trout streams- two flies of specific bulk and floating or sinking capacity at a certain distance apart.  Awesome. Caught even more after that.

From The West Coast To The East Coast To The Midwest

Lots has been going on.

This was about the time the brilliance began.

I made it back to St. Paul for my friends' wedding. It was totally low-key and one of the best parties I've been to in a long time. As you can see, there was no shortage of beer.


Then, there was a decision. Road trip to Maryland. It was myself and this freak:

One of many incredible spots en route to Maryland:

We went out there to meet an old friend's daughter. Here she is:

Proof that Mike got to make out once.

Squeezed in a bit of fly-fishing near the Antietam
Battlefield in Maryland, and a couple other spots.

Love the history in the east. This is part of a memorial for Civil War journalists and artists.

A group of us volunteered to defoliate sections of forest on the east coast.
The guy in this photo is using a defoliation method known as "missing."

On the way back to MN

Indiana?            Yes, Indiana.

And now.... back in Minnesota. This is where I'll be for the foreseeable future.

MN Prairie

Western Minnesota-- Where Prairie and Woods Blend Together

Minneapolis

St. Paul Trainyard

North Shore of Minnesota. Grand Marais, MN

Capital. St. Paul Minnesota

Minnesota Woods

Bridge to Lowertown, St. Paul

Como Park. St. Paul, MN

Elbowed In The Throat

On one of my last nights in Portland, I decided to hit up one of my favorite brew-pubs; Coalition Brewing.

While outside the building, indulging in another bad habit, the other guy out there sneezed and it made a notably lound and weird sound. He apologized for the volume and explained that it was because he had been playing basketball, was elbowed in the throat, and basically had his throat crushed. I was convinced he was telling the truth when he grabbed his adam's apple and moved it side-to-side, over the entire width of his throat.

He told me that after he was elbowed in the throat, he couldn't speak and had difficulty breathing. While in recovery at the hospital, he had to weigh an absence of health insurance against treatment options, and contacted a friend who had recovered from cancer with the aid of various traditional and alternative treatments.

The story went on, and included microscopic detail, but ultimately what made it interesting was this:

This guy was absolutely certain that using his fingers to apply pressure to various points on his own body allowed him to heal himself. He only went back to the doctor once, and the doctor didn't believe him that he had done it on his own.  The practice is known as acupressure.

Charlie Rock

En route to St. Paul, I stopped in Bozeman, Montana, to do some fly-fishing. The fishing was poor, so I went to a local bar/restaurant for dinner. I sat next to a guy with a cowboy hat at the bar and after I ordered some chow, I noticed the bill of this guy's cowboy hat in my peripheral vision a few times- he kept looking at me. When I looked back at him, there was a flash of recognition.

"Second week of September, last year, west side of the Gallatin, south of the bridge," I said.

"What?" he asked.

"Do you drive a white Ford? A diesel?" I asked.

"Yeah." He looked worried for a moment.

"In the second week of September last year, did you meet a guy who was fishing on the west side of the Gallatin river, just south of the bridge, who was from Minnesota and on his way to Oregon?" I asked again.

"It's a small world." he said.



The guy's name is Charlie Rock (prefers to be called CJ), and he is a professional fly-fishing guide. He operates out of The Tackle Shop in Ennis, Montana, and he's a good guy- gave me some fishing tips when I met him on the Gallatin in the fall of 11' for no reason besides wanted to help out. And the tips worked.

If you are looking for a fishing guide in Montana, contact The Tackle Shop at 406-682-4263 and tell them you want to have Charlie Rock take you fishing. He knows what he's doing.

Portland, Oregon, In Hindsight

The Good Stuff:

• Living, breathing neighborhoods
• Quick access to beautiful natural areas
• Best city parks I've ever seen
• The Oregon coast is unmatched
• Public transit is excellent
• Educated population
• It's easy to make friends - everyone is from somewhere else
• Amazing variety of high quality food
• Amazing variety of high quality beer

The Not-So-Good Stuff That Really Counts:

• Job market is shot and bleeding profusely
• Housing availability and price
• Cost of gasoline and everything else
• Dating is difficult at best
• Endless rain

Other Things of  Note:



The Weirdness?

Hipsters and the Keep Portland Weird mantra come to mind. I never quite understood this. If you perceive yourself as weird and go to a place where there are masses of people who you perceive to be like you, then you become normal upon arrival at that place. You were wearing the uniform before you joined, and you're no longer weird. I bring this up because it's clear that many of Portland's hipster "weirdos" never wanted to be able to blend in. I think they want to be weird amongst the weird. It's good to have goals.

Some of what I witnessed in Portland was a weirdness competition that I am certain was rooted in the sudden drop in attention after being surrounded by other, more weird people. How much can you stretch out your earlobes? How long are the braids in your beard? How many tattoos can you fit on your face? What hard drug do you use until you wake up in a strange place? What costume will you wear today as you walk downtown? Will you wear anything at all? Where were you when you scared the shit out of children with your appearance? How much coffeeeeeee did you drink today and was it organic, fair trade, cruelty free, and hugged daily before they stuck it and all its feelings in a grinder? Did you accept someone unconditionally despite the fact that they're obviously a douche? Weirdo.


The Weather?

When I was younger, I was a firefighter. I remember using the fixed deck-gun on top of a pumper truck to soak down a building that had collapsed into itself after being destroyed by a gas-fed fire. I wasn't the only guy on a deck-gun. There were other firefighters on other deck-guns nearby and also on the other side of the building. Thousands and thousands of gallons of water poured into that building until the wetness was wet. Portland is like the inside of that building, all day and all night, for 9-10 months of the year. The other 2-3 months are pretty great, for 5 days of the week. Yep. Awesome. Portland's weather reminds me of this Irish joke about rain: "It only rained twice this week- once for three days and once for four days."  Except it's not funny when you live in it, under it, and on it.


The Homeless Population?

Except to say that it is wholly sad, the homeless situation in Portland is beyond description.



Ultimately, I recommend a visit to Portland at the least. It will be an experience.

Moving To Portland, Oregon, Without A Job

Moving to Portland, Oregon, without a job is a really, really, really bad idea. But, you might get lucky. 

So many people are moving to Portland without jobs that I think a few strangers will find this, so I've written this post with those strangers in mind.

Things you should know:

I just showed up in Portland one day. Did I try to find a job here before I came? Yes, but as soon as employers found out I was living in MN, I was dropped. That wasn't enough to deter me, so I drove out.  After the magical adventure of finding a place to live, the job hunt began. It was instantly frustrating. One honest conversation I had with a local human resources person was revealing: She told me there is such a surplus of people looking for work in Portland that someone who does not live in the immediate area will not be considered unless they have a great deal of experience in a niche field. Here's the thing: I have a great deal of experience in a niche medical profession. And the degree and a high GPA and the letters of recommendation from everyone I've ever worked for and all that stuff, so I thought I would take the chance and come out. None of my qualifications matter here.

I have been able to find part-time work, but that story is coming later.

Other things you should know:

I didn't bother with a traditional move. I packed what I believe to be the necessities of my life into a Civic and simply drove to Portland. I didn't bring big items because I would not make the assumption that things would work out in Portland, and I'm glad I didn't. The employment situation in the Pacific Northwest was, and still is, dire. So is the vacancy rate for apartments. Perhaps you know all that. I knew that before I drove out, but I wanted to live in the PNW for years, the timing was perfect for me on a personal level, and Portland was my best bet for carving out a life in this part of the country. And I believe in taking chances because it's fun and you learn. Does some of that sound familiar?

Did I really try to find a job or am I one of those twits that moved to Portland in order to retire?

I approached finding a job as though it were my job. I was disappointed to find that three months after moving to Portland, I could not even get an interview. Did I try online options? Yes. Even Craigslist? Yes. Did you try the "gigs" section of Craigslist (which is stalked all day by people here) just to get by? Yes. Temp agencies? Yes, and I got one call from one agency. I tried to call them back for days and they wouldn't answer the phone or return my messages. Walk in a store with a resume? Yes. Get so frustrated you might have smudged your resume? Yes. Were you looking for a career-track type gig or just anything? Both. I applied for public positions with local government and for jobs carrying bricks and running shovels. I did this every day and after three months, the chances of finding a job seemed akin to finding a unicorn on Mars that can play the oboe while translating The Iliad into Ojibway. Then my air mattress popped.

For the love of sleep and money and their symbiosis:

My air mattress was quite comfortable until the morning I woke up with my ass on the floor and my feet in the air and one arm entirely numb from the contorted position I slowly sank into as the air leaked out of it overnight. You've been there. It's not good. When I woke up in that position my miserly mindset was immediately ditched. I found The Mattress Lot online and it was blocks away.

I went to the store, found a really good full-size mattress and box-spring with a frame for about $200. And they agreed to deliver it later that afternoon. The rest goes like this:



Delivery Guy: "Where are you from?"

Me: "Minnesota."

"So you just drove into town because you wanted to live here?"

"Yes."

"You see that delivery truck?"

"Yes."

"Could you drive that?"

"A panel truck is no problem."

"I own the company and I'm looking for a delivery guy. Do you want a job?"

"Yes."


And then I became the Delivery Guy.  Working at The Mattress Lot was great. I was treated incredibly well by the company's owners, Michael and Mary Ruth Hanna, who know a lot about being unemployed and taking chances. I even had the bonus of enjoying my coworkers, all of whom are fun and hard-working.

Side note: Michael delivers mattresses on a bicycle, which makes him nuts or a raging Portlander.The Jury is still out.

I am grateful for that job- it allowed me to float. But my hours there were part-time and I need full-time, so I'm playing the unemployment odds and heading to the Midwest. Or, wherever I can get full-time hours. Know someone who's hiring anywhere?

At the end of it...

While things occasionally fall right into place, like having a really good part-time job delivered to your door along with a really good bed, that's probably not going to happen for you if you just show up in Portland like I did. Keep in mind that the entire time I worked at The Mattress Lot, I was looking for full-time work in the Pacific Northwest, of any kind, and only received one interview after applying to hundreds of jobs.

Obviously, Portland and the PNW have a number of wonderful things about them. If Portland wasn't a decent place, people wouldn't be driving into town every day. However, if you're like me when it comes to work and prefer traditional employment over part-time work or running your own business, you'd better think twice about moving to Portland without a job. Get a job in Portland before you come out, or be heavily connected with people here who can help you get a job once you arrive. If you don't, you will have a rough go of it.

But then again, you might get lucky.


Check out these other posts about Portland:

Portland in hindsight


Observations of Portland





You're probably going anyway, so don't forget one of these:

My Favorite Vices

I've been roaring drunk on novelty and exploration and observation for a good while.


There will be more posts in the future, and they may include stories of the past 8 months. Or not.